NOW LIVE! Today's the day you meet your new best friend. You don’t have to leave Wolfy behind... In 'Pets & Sidekicks' your companions level up with you!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Insight" data-source="post: 922542" data-attributes="member: 11437">Nyberg, Little SaigonThe thoughts were back.  Couldn't control them.  Again.::and when you're done, I hope you die...::::Too late!  Too late!::Lt. Commander Andy Nyberg cringed as the last of it was gone -- for now.  He had experienced these episodes for some time now, ever since his mental abilities had developed to the point where he could read others' minds.  Guys in the white coats called it 'Telepathic Feedback'.  Dr. Faizel said these would stop in due time.  What did he know?Nyberg looked at his watch.  5 AM.  What the hell am I doing here?  He looked around at the crack-whores and boarded-up windows shrouded in sickly yellow light coming from the one streetlight that was allocated to this block.  He could barely see, and it would be a good hour before sunrise.Maybe I could ask them, he considered, seeing a trio of Vietnamese hoods.  Nyberg approached, and they stiffened upon spotting the 'foreigner' within their territory.As he got closer, Nyberg spotted a whore giving her John a good time in an alley nearby.  He tried not to look.  Just part of the scenery.The thugs approached and stopped.  "Whatchu doin here, huh?" their leader said in barely intelligible English."You lost?" another asked, his left hand fingering a butterfly knife.Nyberg replied in perfect Vietnamese.  "No, no.  You misunderstand.  I'm here on business."The three thugs were stunned.  Apparently, this mysterious stranger did have business here.  Or, at the very least, knew what he was doing."You a cop?" the leader asked.Nyberg's head started spinning again.  The thoughts...::this oughta be good...::::No, it's everywhere!::He crumpled to the ground, but then got up on one knee.  Nyberg looked quickly toward the thugs, who undoubtedly had some questions now.One of them, the nervous one, pulled out his butterfly knife and click-clacked it into its upright position.  "He's a cop!""No, I'm..."  Nyberg stood under the watchful eye of the three hoods.  "I'm here to do some business with Ng Hai."The leader laughed.  "Are you kidding?" he asked.  "A white skin like you?  You're not getting anywhere near Ng Hai."  He drew a pistol.  "Especially if you're a cop."Nyberg slowly opened his jacked, revealing its interior and his armpits, indicating that he was likely unarmed.  "Would a cop come in here without a piece?"The leader latched the safety on his weapon.  "Guess not."  He holstered the pistol in his pants.  "So what do you want with Ng Hai?"Nyberg had come all the way from SOMA to Little Saigon in an attempt to track down the elusive Ng Hai, a well-known opium dealer and low-level member of the Golden Triangle.  But Nyberg wasn't here to bust Ng Hai."I need a fix," he finally admitted.The anxious one shoved Nyberg against the nearest wall, and he did nothing to resist.  "You gotta be jokin, man.  Ng Hai doesn't sell to fixers on the street."The thoughts burst through again, at an incredibly inopportune moment, as usual.::seems I'm a little early::::take pictures... what about the cops?::The leader approached as the knife-wielding thug held Nyberg against the wall."I know you're an outsider," he began.  "That much is obvious.  Despite your command of our language, you obviously don't know the lay of the land.  You're no freak.  Is this your first time down here?"Nyberg had just cleared his head, and hadn't caught everything they had said.  "I'm not from around here," he managed.The thugs laughed and let him off the wall.  "Look," the leader replied, "We're just not going to march you right up to Ng Hai.  No way in hell.  Not if we want to live.""But if you're looking to party," the knife-wielder added, "I know a hook-up.""That's more like it," Nyberg replied.As the four men walked deeper into the back streets of Little Saigon, Nyberg wondered why he couldn't stop these 'interruptions' of late.  It was much easier before he could read minds, but then, other problems arose, like blasting everyone within a 20 foot radius with his thoughts.  That was... unpleasant.One of the lab coats recommended aspirin or the like.  Yeah, that worked for about a day.  Then, it got worse.  Soon, it was entire bottles of aspirin a day.  Drinking didn't help for long.  His body was developing a tolerance for the cure without doing anything for the cause of his suffering.  Harder stuff seemed like the best solution.They got to a door, and the leader knocked.  Shouts came from within.Nyberg wandered a short distance away from the door, just in case.  As he did, he mind numbed.::that's more like it...::::you're crazy, man!::"Get out!" Nyberg shouted in an attempt to repel his demons.  The men at the door drew their weapons and looked at one another, then at the 'white skin' who was running from them.Nyberg heard sirens in the distance and grabbed ahold of a light pole to steady himself as he regained his sanity.  He looked back to the three men who had brought him this far, but they had not moved.  He could tell that they had not yet heard the sirens.The stress on his mind continued for a moment as the adrenaline rush subsided. ::gunshots?::::the cops are here!::Nyberg's grip on the light pole waned, and he fell to the ground.  As he regained his composure, Nyberg felt a slight vibration in his pocket.  What the hell? he wondered for about a second as his mind went through the possibilities.  My pager, he realized.He stood and got away from the scene, grabbing his pager and pressing the 'Light' button so that he could read the LED.Great.</blockquote>

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